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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285479">A Cat‘s Grace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrimshapeofyoursmile/pseuds/thegrimshapeofyoursmile'>thegrimshapeofyoursmile</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To Build A Home [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dealing With Trauma, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Ivan gets a cat named Rodya, OCD, Team Dynamics, life after trauma, too many allusions to Dostoevsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:42:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285479</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrimshapeofyoursmile/pseuds/thegrimshapeofyoursmile</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan finds a cat in the park. Sergei gives advice, Boris is uncharacteristically enthusiastic and Yuriy washes his hands more often than is good. Between boiling emotions and screaming cats, everyone is trying to heal a little.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To Build A Home [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Cat‘s Grace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>WARNING: Yuriy has OCD in this one and washes his hands a lot. It‘s not the main focus of his story, but if you‘re uncomfortable with that you should probably skip this story. </p>
<p>This is a translation of my story „Katzenjammer“. You can find the original in German on Animexx <a href="https://www.animexx.de/fanfiction/391980/?js_back=1">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1.<br/>
Ivan hadn't planned on taking the kitten with him.<br/>
He had really only wanted a moment of peace and quiet. Life after the abbey was just incredibly strange. Sure, they were all together, which was the main thing, and of course, Yuriy provided a rigorous daily routine that he wanted them to see through to the minute which meant that they didn’t hang completely in the air. But still everything was just different. He couldn't stop waiting to be brought back and for everything to dissolve in nothing or to turn out to be just another experiment. And nobody could tell him that the others weren't feeling the same, even though nobody fucking said anything. The stupid therapy sessions they had been thrown into didn't work in Ivan's eyes, either. What did a trained shrink know about what he had experienced? Besides, nobody could explain to him that these people really cared.<br/>
It was just strange that no one seemed to have any expectations of them. Nobody wanted them to attend anything, nobody asked them to perform, nobody forced them to take a certain direction in their lives. The apartment in which they were housed and regularly visited by a social worker had only been chosen for them because even Yuriy had been overwhelmed with the sheer inexhaustibility of options and so they were secretly glad for the aid. They didn't even have to work because until they were of age, they were paid a monthly compensation for the pain and suffering they had gone through, the money being a result of the negotiations against Volkov and Biovolt. At first, it had been downright relieving to put everything in Yuriy's hands again: the daily chore chart that the social worker had recommended and that hardly anyone adhered to because Yuriy usually took care of everything alone. The training Yuriy scheduled for them. The acquisition of the things that they needed and should have as civilized members of society. Inquiring about training opportunities. Yuriy kept them all rolling because no one else did, held them together and pushed them into a future they all had no idea about.<br/>
And Ivan still wanted to scream and run away.<br/>
Yes, Yuriy took care of everything. But he really took care of <em>everything.</em> It had been so easy at first to let go of all the things that needed to be done and take no responsibility for anything, but in the end it didn't lead to anything except the vague feeling that something was missing. It was absurd. They all seemed trapped in a loop that went on and on, unable to really move on. Yuriy was apparently happy with how things were, but Ivan just felt frustrated. Maybe he should just leave - away from Moscow and away from the people who couldn't get him anywhere.<br/>
Then he found the kitten, skinny, completely filthy and with suspicious, pale blue eyes sitting under a park bench, in a crouched position as if it was expecting an attack.<br/>
 <br/>
It took him a week to coax it into allowing him to pick it up so that he could take it to a vet.<br/>
By then, Sergei had found out what kept Ivan outside in the park. It was amazing that it wasn't Yuriy, but then again Yuriy was busy cleaning the apartment, constantly washing his hands and spending hours on the internet looking for the best combination locks for who knew what. Their leader seemed to be freaking out, but he didn’t say anything of the sorts, always claiming that everything was fine. Sergei, on the other hand, had noticed that Ivan spent less time at home than usual and one day he simply couldn't be shaken off as he followed him to the park.<br/>
"That's a bad idea," he remarked while helping Ivan to maneuver the less than enthusiastic kitten into a transport box that Sergei had borrowed from the neighbors. "What are you going to do with it?"<br/>
Ivan shrugged. "Take it to the vet. I certainly won't go to McDonald’s with it. "<br/>
Sergei rolled his eyes. He had let Boris cut his hair shorter and it brought out the features of his face much better. He looked older, more mature. Ivan was downright jealous. “Thanks for nothing, Vanya. You know exactly what I mean."<br/>
"One step after the other, okay?" And then, although he didn't actually do anything prohibited and didn't have to justify himself, "You're not ratting me out, are you?"<br/>
There was worry on Sergei's face that he couldn't really hide. Together they looked at the kitten, which was clearly frightened and annoyed but sat completely still in the box and only indicated its inner condition through the sharply protruding, drawn-up shoulder blades and a hunched back.<br/>
Ivan sharply elbowed Sergei’s rib to encourage him to answer.<br/>
"No," said Sergei with another roll of his eyes, but the worry didn't leave his face.</p>
<p>2.<br/>
“Oh, fuck," Boris said when he saw the skeptical, light-blue eyes glint down from Ivan's bookshelf.<br/>
Ivan had taken Rodya to the flat two days ago after their visit to the vet and hid him in his room, which the cat never left. Although his room was small, it didn't seem to bother the animal. At least for the moment it didn't seem to feel an increased need for more space. Rodya took his time to explore every corner, understood the principle of the litter box surprisingly fast and quickly made the highest point on the bookshelf his favorite place from where he regularly watched Ivan with his bright eyes. After he had given him a thorough scrub, soft, mostly cream-colored fur had appeared, apart from a black front paw. According to the vet, Rodya was deaf in one ear, but it didn't seem to bother him. He also had an eczema that needed treatment and a weak immune system that needed heavy maintenance. He was still too thin, not particularly friendly and seldom moved out of his crouched position, he seemed to listen to Ivan when he spoke to him, small ears flicking attentively. Ivan completely adored him.<br/>
And now there was Boris, who wasn't supposed to be in his room at all. But Boris was always where he shouldn't be.<br/>
"If you say a word to Yuriy," Ivan hissed, "then I’ll-"<br/>
Boris tore his gaze away from Rodya, who had instantly retreated a little under his eyes, and stared at Ivan instead. There was a ferocity in his eyes, as if he couldn't wait to get a reason to punch someone's nose. Not a week went by without his therapist giving him some anger management homework, but the progress Boris was making was small enough that it frustrated him as much as everyone else.<br/>
"Then you’ll what?“ he asked challengingly. "I should do it for that threat alone. "<br/>
Ivan glared at him. "Have you always been such an asshole?“<br/>
"Have you always had your pants so full that you wet yourself at the thought of Yura's reaction?" Boris shot back, then shook his head. "On the other hand, you really have balls smuggling the cat in here, I gotta give you that."<br/>
Ivan narrowed his eyes. “If you tell Yuriy anything, I'll tell him what <em>you're</em> smuggling in here. And then we can see which of the two of is getting their asses busted open. I think he can cope with the cat better than the weed. "<br/>
Instantly there was a storm in Boris ‘eyes. "You won't dare," he hissed and took a step towards Ivan. "I swear to you-"<br/>
Rodya screamed, short and shrill like a stabbed white woman in a horror movie, and the two boys instantly broke apart. Their heads craned up to the point where the cat was poised on the edge of the shelf with bristled fur and stared at them with a steep crease between its bright eyes. At that moment he reminded Ivan of someone without his finger on it.<br/>
The tension left Boris’s shoulders. He saw him take one or two deep breaths and close his eyes, then he said dully, "I won‘t say anything."<br/>
"Thank you," Ivan said glumly and let himself fall on his bed.<br/>
"You don't even know if he'd be against it," Boris said after a while.<br/>
Ivan snorted. “Yuriy is against everything that deviates from his plan and might be fun. He will surely put him out the door immediately, and since he’s completely resistant against discussion, I don‘t even have to try. "<br/>
Boris looked at the crouched cat again and snorted as if Ivan had said something very stupid.<br/>
It was quiet for a moment. Ivan watched Boris, who in turn stared at the cat, who never let them out of his sight.<br/>
"Shit, that’s scary. He’s batshit crazy, "Boris finally said and sounded almost enthusiastic, which was remarkable when you consider that Boris had not really been enthusiastic about anything for a long time because all his energy seemed to flow into anger. "What's his name?"<br/>
"Rodya," Ivan said.<br/>
Boris started to laugh. It wasn't a pretty sound, but it had the potential to become one. Just like Ivan he had come to know Dostoyevsky's ’Crime and Punishment‘ when Yuriy had read it to them in a low, clear voice before, during and after the tough negotiations against Biovolt, in order to calm them all down a little. It had been both fitting and inappropriate to read that exact novel at that exact time. But Yuriy had a knack for things like that, and they had all been a little endeared to wildly desperate, conflicted and self-driven Raskolnikov. And the cat who bore his nickname seemed split, torn between the need to trust and the need to protect yourself, too.<br/>
Ivan caught himself grinning at his friend and Boris actually returned the grin before saying, "Then you better not give him an axe and make sure that he always has enough to eat."</p>
<p>3.<br/>
Cat food was heavy as hell.<br/>
Ivan's shoulder hurt from the bulging bag that he was dragging up the stairs to the apartment, but after eight days Rodya had finally started to trust the food he was given and now didn't seem to want to stop. He would probably eat Ivan out of house and home, but Ivan felt prouder and happier than he had in a long time. If that was what it took, he would gladly dislocate his shoulder for it. Sergei had offered to buy and carry the cans for him, but he had already bought the cat litter yesterday, so Ivan didn’t want to send him around once more. Besides, Rodya was his responsibility. Boris and Sergei had become quite devoted to him, too, although Rodya still only very reluctantly let himself be touched, but in the end he belonged with Ivan. And Ivan liked to imagine that the cat saw it the same way and that he considered Ivan his favorite person.<br/>
It was uplifting to be number one in at least one part of his life for once.<br/>
The thought that Rodya might come up again today and sit quietly purring out of reach next to him while he sat at the computer made him happy enough that he quickened his pace and unlocked the apartment door. It was quiet, but that was nothing special. Sergei was with his therapist and Boris recently had the habit of either sitting in Ivan's room while he read and was stared at by Rodya, or sitting in his own room and blasting Russian Drum&amp;Bass through his room. Only God knew where Yuriy was – cleaning again, perhaps, or aimlessly wandering around Moscow.<br/>
At least that was what Ivan thought until he had kicked his boots aside, looked up and saw Yuriy standing rigidly in front of the open door to Ivan's room.<br/>
Rodya sat on the doorstep. He had never dared to venture out of the room that far before and now he sat there, his body tense as if he were only seconds away from jumping. He and Yuriy measured each other with silent gazes, both waiting, both without blinking.<br/>
Ivan dropped the shopping bag.<br/>
Startled by the noise, Rodya screamed briefly and bitterly before he slipped back into Ivan's room. Yuriy winced, then turned his head with a jerk in Ivan’s direction. Only then did Ivan notice that his eyes were the same color as Rodya’s and wondered how he never made that connection before.<br/>
"What the <em>fuck</em>, Ivan," Yuriy said in a tone like polished steel.<br/>
Ivan’s eyes widened and he took a step back because Yuriy <em>never</em> swore. Boris, yeah, he could cuss up a storm for hourse. Sergej could swear like a trooper and Ivan didn't hold back in some moments either, but Yuriy never got vulgar, just as he never got loud. He usually didn't have to since he was extremely good at breaking someone into a thousand pieces with precise, cold words if given the chance. Hearing that word out of his mouth stunned Ivan enough to turn him mute for a moment, even though he had imagined a thousand times how this confrontation would turn out - how he would make his rights clear and insist loudly and clearly that Yuriy finally took him seriously.<br/>
His voice failed. Yuriy's cold, bright eyes bored into his.<br/>
"What is this animal doing here," he said. It wasn't phrased like a question, but like an attack.<br/>
Ivan took a deep breath. Then, absurdly enough, his gaze fell on what Yuriy was wearing. It felt like he was actually looking at his team leader for the first time in weeks, maybe even months. Yuriy was wearing one of Sergei's hoodies, its sleeves reaching well over his wrists so that he almost disappeared in it. Had he not held his head high, at least the lower half of his face would have been covered by the collar. He looked thin, narrower than months ago, as if life after the abbey was slowly but surely consuming him and only the flickering fire in his eyes kept him going. This was not someone larger than life, Ivan suddenly realized with startling clarity, this was just their leader, their friend, and he was just as lost as they all were.<br/>
Ivan found his voice again. "He lives here."<br/>
Yuriy narrowed his eyes, but the spell was broken. Ivan was no longer afraid of him, on the contrary, he could feel how he was getting angrier and angrier, yes, how all the feelings he had accumulated in the last few weeks were trying to burst out of him.<br/>
"How long has this been going on?" Yuriy quietly and sharply wanted to know.<br/>
"A few days," Ivan said and crossed his arms over his chest. "You haven't noticed anything so far, so you have no right to get upset now."<br/>
“What kind of logic is that? I don't remember giving my permission- "<br/>
"I don't need your damned permission, Yuriy," Ivan interrupted and could feel something breaking inside him. “I live here, too and I'm just as much a person as you are. Just because you're our team leader doesn't mean you have to control the rest of our lives - we've had enough of that, I think. And the cat doesn't bother anyone. Boris and Sergey have known about him for a long time and like him. Only you are causing a scene right now. "<br/>
"Boris and Sergey have known about this animal for a long time," Yuriy slowly repeated. Red splotches had started to creep up his neck, which mostly meant he was pissed off. "I don't control your life, but I can say that I don't want any animals here."<br/>
"Give me a reason why not," Ivan hissed, "except 'I just don't want it here.‘ "<br/>
"I don't see why I need any other reason," Yuriy said icily.<br/>
"I'm fed up with you," Ivan exclaimed more violently than intended. Something twitched in Yuriy's face, but now Ivan was too riled up to waste any attention on it. "Nobody asked you to handle and take care of everything!"<br/>
"It didn't exactly hail complaints either," Yuriy tartly replied.<br/>
"Yeah, because that would have changed so much," Ivan hissed scornfully. “Because you are the great communicator! Forget it. I don't even know why I'm even discussing this with you - but I'll tell you one thing: the cat stays, otherwise I'll leave. And we both know that you couldn't stand not being able to push any of us around like a puppet, which is exactly what Volkov groomed you to do! Don't you notice that what we do here - how we live - is completely insane?"<br/>
He hadn't noticed that he had gotten loud until Boris poked his head out of his room. "What the hell is going on here?"<br/>
Ivan glanced at him, then back at Yuriy and suddenly sobered up. His team leader looked at him with an expression he had never seen on his face before. His shoulders were hunched in what seemed to be an instinctive attempt to protect himself, but only cause him to disappear even more into Sergei's hoodie, as if he was dissolving into it at any moment.<br/>
Shit, Ivan thought. He had gone too far, way too far. This was still Yuriy, his friend - no matter how difficult it was at the moment. And if Ivan was completely honest with himself he knew that the unsettled feeling that didn’t seem to want to leave Ivan these days wasn’t Yuriy’s fault, at least not entirely.<br/>
Before he could utter a word, however, Yuriy had lowered his eyes. Ivan stood rooted to the spot when Yuriy closed the door to his room - very gently, very quietly - and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans before he passed him. Clicking softly, the apartment door closed behind him as he left the flat. Ivan felt a tingling sensation in the corner of his eye that was paired with rising nausea.<br/>
"Shit," said Boris from behind him.<br/>
Behind the closed door, Rodya made a mournful sound.</p>
<p>4.<br/>
Yuriy did not speak to him in the following days.<br/>
In fact, Yuriy rarely spoke to anyone. He didn't show up too much either because he hardly ever left his room except to go to therapy and appointments with the doctors and their social worker, or when Boris managed to get him to eat. Then he sat with them at the kitchen table, his face an unreadable mask, and arranged the food in perfect geometric shapes on the plate until it got cold and he had perhaps taken two bites before he disappeared again. Ivan’s tongue seemed stuck on the roof of his mouth every time he saw him. If Yuriy was approached by Boris or Sergei, he replied in short statements or even only with gestures. He didn't say another word about Rodya's presence in the apartment. In fact, he didn't even look at Ivan.<br/>
Ivan had fucked up, and royally so.<br/>
He would have preferred if Yuriy had just gone mad as hell. Instead, he was faced with a team leader who seemed to be becoming more and more of a ghost and it scared the shit of Ivan. Sure, Yuriy continued to adhere strictly to his daily routine. But he didn't seem to care anymore whether they took part in the training or not. He just seemed indifferent to everything, and Yuriy was never indifferent to anything. The guy actually had a firm opinion about evervy imaginable topic from which he rarely let himself be dissuaded. In the end, Ivan got what he wanted: Yuriy said nothing more about their daily routine, no longer bothered with the mail and left them to make their own appointments. And suddenly they all found themselves in a vacuum.<br/>
On the one hand, it was a good thing. After all, no independence could be gained if you didn't do something yourself. On the other hand, it was way, way too abrupt and Yuriy's behavior was way too unnatural. Was it a punishment? Was he depressed? What the hell was all of this shitty therapy thing for if they were still slowly but surely falling apart?<br/>
Finally, Ivan caved in and asked Boris and Sergei for advice, even if he wasn't hoping for much.<br/>
“Talk to him,“ Boris hissed at Ivan after they had gathered in Ivan's room for a council of war. They tried to be quiet because Rodya reacted extremely nervously to loud noises and was already twitching his ears in irritation with an incredible sensitivity for turbulent moods. “He's like a fucking zombie. I don't know what you said, but just duel it out, for what it’s worth. If one of you idiots dies, Seryoscha and I will take care of Rodya and sell your things at low prices on Ebay, you’d definitely deserve that."<br/>
"Fucking capitalists," Ivan said promptly, "and Rodya is mine."<br/>
“He‘s common property,” Sergei said just as promptly. Rodya stared at him with a deep crease between his eyes and then turned his head away as if the whole discussion was beneath him. Ivan wondered why he'd ever assumed that Boris and Sergei had anything useful to say. "You have to channel your inner communist, Vanya, makes things easier."<br/>
“Exactly,” said Boris, “take an example from Yuriy. He steals my pants all the time. "<br/>
“And my hoodies,” said Sergei.<br/>
"And my socks," muttered Ivan, then sighed and shook his head. “None of that is helpful right now. Maybe I should just punch him. "<br/>
"What if ..." Sergei paused meaningfully. "You know." He leaned forward and whispered loudly, "If you - apologize?"<br/>
“Why doesn't he apologize?", Ivan demanded to know, "Why is it always us who have to apologize?"<br/>
"We're not apologizing at all," Boris said in an unusually somber fashion. “Nobody here ever apologizes for anything. And Yuriy sucks at communicating. But the fact is that, to be honest, he wasn't wrong - everyone has to agree that the cat is here. "<br/>
"He only ever stays in my room anyway."<br/>
"Then tell him that, " Sergei said and raised his hands to stave off another protest. “I bet he just feels run over. And he's not doing that great now either. I think he stood in the bathroom for an hour yesterday and washed his hands, my fingertips shriveled simply from watching. If we don't have a visit from the police soon and they arrest him for murder, there’s no reason for so much hand-washing."<br/>
They were silent for a moment and looked at the cat that licked his paw without being bothered by anything going on around him. Ivan pondered the fact that sometimes he was damn happy not to have any contact with his biological family because this family right here really was difficult enough sometimes. The conflict with Yuriy made him feel sick to his stomach.<br/>
Then Sergei looked at Ivan with pleading eyes. “Be the better person here and talk to him. It doesn’t do any good to stress ourselves because of shit like that. "<br/>
"If necessary, you can still duel him afterwards," Boris added solemnly and ducked when Ivan threw a pillow at him.</p>
<p>5.<br/>
Ivan knocked on Yuriy's door like a gladiator stepping into the arena.<br/>
It took a while until it was opened. He had never been in Yuriy's room because Yuriy always came to them when necessary, and even now he was unable to take a closer look because the door only opened a crack, just wide enough that Yuriy could examine him with an unreadable expression in his eyes.<br/>
Ivan straightened his shoulders and mentally encouraged himself. "Can we talk about the cat?"<br/>
"I think you've already said everything there is to be said about it," Yuriy said calmly.<br/>
Well, clearly Yuriy wouldn't make it easy for him. Yuriy never made anything easy for anyone at all. Ivan took a deep breath and then said quickly before he could change his mind, "I said some really shitty things, okay? I was angry and I didn't mean it that way. Can we talk about my cat now? "<br/>
Yuriy was silent and eyed him without blinking. His face was pale and severe, as if he had a headache that he couldn't get rid of.<br/>
Ivan brought himself to grit out, “Please.“<br/>
His team leader did not move for another long, long moment and Ivan was afraid that he would simply refuse a conversation. Then, however, he nodded briefly and abruptly, opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.<br/>
"Show it to me," he said.<br/>
Ivan was too taken by surprise not to obey. Yuriy followed him quietly as a shadow and just as quietly he entered the room to face the cat, who until then had slept curled up on Ivan's bed. Now he raised his head as Yuriy sank to his knees in front of the bed and looked at him. There was more than two hand's breadth of free space between them and neither man nor cat made any move to change that so quickly. The whole scene was kind of absurd. Ivan closed the door a little dazedly and wondered what he had expected, but didn’t come up with a satisfying answer. He only knew one thing: that it hadn’t been this, but that this wasn't bad at all.<br/>
Still, he felt compelled to say something. “I found him in the park. He looked pathetic, almost died."<br/>
Yuriy said nothing and did not look away from Rodya, but Ivan could see from his posture that he was listening, so he continued a little nervously, “Boris and Sergei figured it out by themselves. Well, more or less. So it just happened that they found out earlier, I didn’t mean to keep it from you. "<br/>
"Liar," Yuriy said. He didn't even sound particularly angry, but Ivan winced at the word, especially when Yuriy turned his head towards him and said, “I always know when you're lying. And do you know what I hate? When you lie to me and keep things a secret. You could have told me anytime."<br/>
Ivan cocked his chin. “I wanted to keep him. I don't want to give him up. "<br/>
There was a strange look on Yuriy's face that Ivan couldn't quite decipher when he asked, “And you were absolutely convinced that I’d be against this animal? Right from the start without even having talked to me about it? "<br/>
"You don't like animals!" Ivan protested, "Yesterday you looked at him as if you'd like to grab his neck and put him in front of the door!"<br/>
"Bullshit," Yuriy said, sounding brusque enough that it cut off Ivan‘s next sentence before it could leave his throat. For a moment it looked as if Yuriy wanted to add something and Ivan watched him struggle with himself, visibly hesitating, before he turned his gaze back to the cat.<br/>
"What's his name?" he finally asked.<br/>
"Rodya," said Ivan.<br/>
Unlike Boris, Yuriy didn't laugh. But something on his face smoothed out, making him look almost soft for a moment, and he opened his hand to offer it to the cat, palm up, without getting any closer. Rodya didn't move, but his ears came forward and after a few heartbeats he stuck his nose forward and sniffed.<br/>
"A living being is a lot of responsibility," Yuriy finally said quietly and without taking his eyes from Rodya. He drew the hand that he did not hold out to the cat back into his much too wide sleeve. “Especially an animal from the street that has seen an incredible amount of bad things. It's easy to make mistakes, even if you don't want to, especially if you are broken yourself. A being like that is dependent on you. You have to take care of his well-being, and street animals in particular can sense so very quickly when you are unbalanced.” He let out a slow breath. “If you are lucky, these animals will notice how much you love them. How hard you try to make them feel fine, to build a home for them, and that you - need them. Then hopefully they'll forgive you if you do things wrong because they instinctively know that you only want what's best for them. Because they are family. But there is always the danger that at some point you will screw it up so badly that they will never trust you again and run away because it can only be better literally everywhere else."<br/>
"Oh," Ivan said, realizing that maybe this conversation wasn't about pets after all. He felt a lump in his throat while Yuriy kept his eyes on Rodya with that strange expression on his face. He hunched his shoulders a little when Ivan came up to him and stopped in front of him, and it was kind of a very strange change of perspective to look down at Yuriy once instead of the other way around.<br/>
"Yuriy," he said, feeling strangely ... strangely grown up. Especially when his team leader looked up at him with an almost helpless look on his face. What an insufferably difficult person, thought Ivan, feeling both frustrated and full of strange affection. “I still like Rodya even when he scratches me every now and then. That's why I'm not giving up on him as soon as things get a little rough."<br/>
Yuriy gave him a small, lopsided smile. “You are responsible for him. He can't be without you now that he knows you. You have to be aware of that. The more he lets you in, the more of all of us he lets in, the more he will need us. "<br/>
"Jesus fuck, Yura," Ivan said when he enough of the coded conversation, "will you ever stop trying to carry the weight of the world on your bony shoulders?"<br/>
"My shoulders are not bony," Yuriy said automatically. The corners of his mouth twitched again, as if he couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.<br/>
"Yeah, that‘s exactly the part of what I just said that you should focus on," Ivan said sarcastically and couldn't believe how such an intelligent person could be so incredibly stupid sometimes. “We won‘t leave you if you fuck up every now and then, okay, and you aren't responsible for having the answers to everything. A lot of things suck right now, but maybe it'll get better and even if it won‘t, we'll still have each other, always."<br/>
Something in Yuriy’s eyes glinted suspiciously as he shook his head, then bowed his head and dug his fingers into his sleeves. Ivan noticed that his hands had been scrubbed almost raw up to his forearms and wondered how he hadn't noticed that before. “I'm just trying ... God, I don't know the rules. I don't know the rules for this life. Sometimes I don't know what to do. "<br/>
It was weird to hear an admission of weakness from Yuriy's mouth and Ivan hadn't known how much he liked him until he had heard those words.<br/>
"I'll tell you," he replied and grabbed Yuriy's hands. Rodya screamed like he always did when he thought someone was attacking someone, but Ivan had already expected that and Yuriy - Yuriy didn't seem really surprised, for some reason. At least he didn't look away from Ivan's face, but kept his eyes on him while allowing Ivan to hold his sore fingers.<br/>
“Listen,” said Ivan quietly, “I don't know any more than you do, except for one thing: this is a game that takes group effort. Just stop trying to direct all figures at the same time for once, then everything’ll work out in the end.”He squeezed Yuriy's hands and looked him straight in the eye. “Trust us, after all we trust you, too. Okay?"<br/>
"Okay," Yuriy said after a long pause, so gently that he could barely understand him. He flinched a little as Ivan threw his arms around his neck, but then Ivan felt him carefully place one of his hands between his shoulder blades to draw him in a little more. It was the first time they had hugged in a long time and Ivan tried to cherish the moment as best as he could. Red hair tickled Ivan's nose and he closed his eyes. Life after the abbey was just incredibly strange. But, and that was probably the main thing, it wasn't always bad.<br/>
Behind them, Rodya began to softly purr. </p>
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